Angel of twelve
by theangelofthedistrict
Summary: Everything about Karver was annoying, her face, her eyes, the way she talked, and the way cato couldn't take his eyes off her. But what happens when district two meets his match in the simple seeming girl? And why the hell did the two twelve get an 11! There is more Karver and Dominic Criss than anyone knows, and cato will find out.


There was smoke. It's all Karver could remember about that night, the smoke rising from the coal mine. There were people running past her house, men with blackened faces and woman crying names that were lost in the haze of excitement and worry. The ground rocked like it was angry, a monster underneath her feet. Her eyes, the same glossy blueish white that was imprinted into her brothers identical face, we're wide with wonder as the houses closest to the entrance of the caves caught on fire. Hands brought her back, as they had when she was a child, to the real world. "We're you listening to me kay? " her brother Dominic asked as he pulled his perfect black hair to the side of his face. He looked different from the others in the district, his eyes were a white blue that sung intelligence and danger. His lips were the mirrored full perfection of their mothers, and of hers, and sat symmetrical on his face. Strong jaw and even stronger brow, his face was pale when everyone else's was tanned with work. After his intelligence belonged in the first districts, not in the slums of district twelve. Karver was average, or to her she was. To everyone else, she was an angel. Her hair was coal black except for when you looked close, you saw the firey red, held in ringlets that framed her full heart shaped face. She looked fragile, her pale skin barely hinted with life, soft pink cheeks and full dark red lips. Her eyes were shadowed with dark rings, making her seem as if she wore make up when she'd never seen the things the capitalist wore. Except for today, every year today. "Yes, I heard you doe. "He grimaced at the childhood nickname as he pulled on the shirt that their sister had ironed for them. She just sent him a smile and turned to the mirror, looking at her black and white reaping dress. It used to belong to her mother, but it hung off of her. She was much skinnier than her family. "Ready for this?" He asked, standing up. "No, are you?" "Like I am every year. "He smiled at his twin and brought her close as he hugged her. He would do anything for the black angel in his arms. She was everything to him, she was a part of him after all. "Just remember, if it's you, then it's me. They won't separate us, never again. " Karver knew what her brother spoke of, the only time the twins had ever been torn apart. Their mother had gotten sick, and while their father was working in the mines it wasn't enough to put good food on the table. The mellarks who lived three doors down would help when they could, but even then they were starving. Their mother refused to eat, giving it to their children with little complaints. While Karver had been five, she wasn't stupid, and refused to eat if their mother didnt. It didn't matter, Elena Criss died two weeks later. Karver didn't want to think about their mother anymore, shaking her head and getting up from her chair. Their room was small, barely fitting their two cots and Karvers mirror. It was the only thing Karver truly loved in their life, the huge ornate mirror that their grandfather carved. He had carved Karvers name into the base of the thing, Karissa Vera Criss. Karver for short. Moving past dominic, she made her way into the other room, pausing to look at the woman who raised them, half dead on her bed in the family room. Opal Criss was 22 and the only full biological family dominic and Karver had in the world. But she didn't look it. Her hair was cherry red, his skin tanned and in some places, scarred. Her eyes had the same shadowy look to them as Karver did but behind the eyelids laid the most brilliant blue eyes ever seen. Opal had never lost her baby blues, unlike Karver who had lost them in the first two weeks of life. She was angelic, full lips, heart shaped face and straight nose. "Hay Vera. "The sleepy woman groaned as she turned on her back from her side. Her stomach was bloated with life, something Karver constantly had attention drawn to. Their was life in their, life that had given them a life. "Hay Opal, how's the little one today?" Karver sat down on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest. It was her favorite position, it making her seem so much smaller than she actually was. Opal smiled at her, her perfect teeth showing just slightly. "Kicking me like crazy. " She grunted as she sat up and her eyes darted around. "Where's lou? He go to work?" Louis Flint was Opals husband and the only real father Karver had ever known. The man had come into their life, sweeping the eldest Criss off her feet and into his bed and heart. He was charming and calm, a polar opposite of the loud, gruff woman Opal was known to be. Louis was the assisstant to the mayor, a job which he took great pride in. "Yeah, he had to go in early today. Effie demanded that he help her set up, for 'he is the only one with decent fashion taste'" Opal smiled when Karver made fun of Effie outrageous accent, her hand covering her lips in a giggle. Effie had been Louis' best friend when he had spent his six years in the capital before coming to twelve, the only person he could trust. And the only person Karver made fun of regularly. "Reaping day huh, kid." Karver looked from the lines of children, to look at Mr. Everdeen, his older face wrinkled with worry as he sent his only daughter off with Gale, a friend of their families. He had lost his older daughter, Katniss, in a fire, the same fire started in the mines when Karver had been younger. But primrose had survived, and this was the first year she had to be entered into the drawing. Karver could feel for the child. "Yes, Mr everdeen. How's your wife? "The woman everdeen had become a recluse after her daughter died, the women seen maybe once a year. "She is sick with worry, but it looks like it's your turn kid, be careful. "His hand reached out to Pat her head, messing up her bun just slightly, not that Karver cared. She had been friends with katniss, the girl having given the nickname Karver to her. "I will. " Without another word, she turned, her eyes seeking out her brother in the line with the males. He was there, towering over the rest of the reapies, his eyes meeting hers in a second. She didn't need to be a mind reader to know how worried he was, his whole body seemingly thumping with held back anxiety. After the finger pricking and the blood drawing, Karver made her way to the line with the girls, giving prim a small smile on the way. The girls around her inched away, as if she was a disease, which would have bothered her if it hadn't been happening her whole life. She was the odd girl, the one whose life had been one fuck up after another. But it couldn't possible fuck up anymore. There was smoke. It's all Karver could remember about that night, the smoke rising from the coal mine. There were people running past her house, men with blackened faces and woman crying names that were lost in the haze of excitement and worry. The ground rocked like it was angry, a monster underneath her feet. Her eyes, the same glossy blueish white that was imprinted into her brothers identical face, we're wide with wonder as the houses closest to the entrance of the caves caught on fire. Hands brought her back, as they had when she was a child, to the real world. "We're you listening to me kay? " her brother Dominic asked as he pulled his perfect black hair to the side of his face. He looked different from the others in the district, his eyes were a white blue that sung intelligence and danger. His lips were the mirrored full perfection of their mothers, and of hers, and sat symmetrical on his face. Strong jaw and even stronger brow, his face was pale when everyone else's was tanned with work. After his intelligence belonged in the first districts, not in the slums of district twelve. Karver was average, or to her she was. To everyone else, she was an angel. Her hair was coal black except for when you looked close, you saw the firey red, held in ringlets that framed her full heart shaped face. She looked fragile, her pale skin barely hinted with life, soft pink cheeks and full dark red lips. Her eyes were shadowed with dark rings, making her seem as if she wore make up when she'd never seen the things the capitalist wore. Except for today, every year today. "Yes, I heard you doe. "He grimaced at the childhood nickname as he pulled on the shirt that their sister had ironed for them. She just sent him a smile and turned to the mirror, looking at her black and white reaping dress. It used to belong to her mother, but it hung off of her. She was much skinnier than her family. "Ready for this?" He asked, standing up. "No, are you?" "Like I am every year. "He smiled at his twin and brought her close as he hugged her. He would do anything for the black angel in his arms. She was everything to him, she was a part of him after all. "Just remember, if it's you, then it's me. They won't separate us, never again. " Karver knew what her brother spoke of, the only time the twins had ever been torn apart. Their mother had gotten sick, and while their father was working in the mines it wasn't enough to put good food on the table. The mellarks who lived three doors down would help when they could, but even then they were starving. Their mother refused to eat, giving it to their children with little complaints. While Karver had been five, she wasn't stupid, and refused to eat if their mother didnt. It didn't matter, Elena Criss died two weeks later. Karver didn't want to think about their mother anymore, shaking her head and getting up from her chair. Their room was small, barely fitting their two cots and Karvers mirror. It was the only thing Karver truly loved in their life, the huge ornate mirror that their grandfather carved. He had carved Karvers name into the base of the thing, Karissa Vera Criss. Karver for short. Moving past dominic, she made her way into the other room, pausing to look at the woman who raised them, half dead on her bed in the family room. Opal Criss was 22 and the only full biological family dominic and Karver had in the world. But she didn't look it. Her hair was cherry red, his skin tanned and in some places, scarred. Her eyes had the same shadowy look to them as Karver did but behind the eyelids laid the most brilliant blue eyes ever seen. Opal had never lost her baby blues, unlike Karver who had lost them in the first two weeks of life. She was angelic, full lips, heart shaped face and straight nose. "Hay Vera. "The sleepy woman groaned as she turned on her back from her side. Her stomach was bloated with life, something Karver constantly had attention drawn to. Their was life in their, life that had given them a life. "Hay Opal, how's the little one today?" Karver sat down on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest. It was her favorite position, it making her seem so much smaller than she actually was. Opal smiled at her, her perfect teeth showing just slightly. "Kicking me like crazy. " She grunted as she sat up and her eyes darted around. "Where's lou? He go to work?" Louis Flint was Opals husband and the only real father Karver had ever known. The man had come into their life, sweeping the eldest Criss off her feet and into his bed and heart. He was charming and calm, a polar opposite of the loud, gruff woman Opal was known to be. Louis was the assisstant to the mayor, a job which he took great pride in. "Yeah, he had to go in early today. Effie demanded that he help her set up, for 'he is the only one with decent fashion taste'" Opal smiled when Karver made fun of Effie outrageous accent, her hand covering her lips in a giggle. Effie had been Louis' best friend when he had spent his six years in the capital before coming to twelve, the only person he could trust. And the only person Karver made fun of regularly. "Reaping day huh, kid." Karver looked from the lines of children, to look at Mr. Everdeen, his older face wrinkled with worry as he sent his only daughter off with Gale, a friend of their families. He had lost his older daughter, Katniss, in a fire, the same fire started in the mines when Karver had been younger. But primrose had survived, and this was the first year she had to be entered into the drawing. Karver could feel for the child. "Yes, Mr everdeen. How's your wife? "The woman everdeen had become a recluse after her daughter died, the women seen maybe once a year. "She is sick with worry, but it looks like it's your turn kid, be careful. "His hand reached out to Pat her head, messing up her bun just slightly, not that Karver cared. She had been friends with katniss, the girl having given the nickname Karver to her. "I will. " Without another word, she turned, her eyes seeking out her brother in the line with the males. He was there, towering over the rest of the reapies, his eyes meeting hers in a second. She didn't need to be a mind reader to know how worried he was, his whole body seemingly thumping with held back anxiety. After the finger pricking and the blood drawing, Karver made her way to the line with the girls, giving prim a small smile on the way. The girls around her inched away, as if she was a disease, which would have bothered her if it hadn't been happening her whole life. She was the odd girl, the one whose life had been one fuck up after another. But it couldn't possible fuck up anymore. 


End file.
